


I Must Be Out Of My Mind (To Come Back Begging For More)

by Captaindick



Series: Going Back To Your Room [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, everyone being stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1502015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captaindick/pseuds/Captaindick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This relationship thing? Somehow, with Stiles, it doesn't seem so hard. Even when he thinks it should be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Must Be Out Of My Mind (To Come Back Begging For More)

**Author's Note:**

> most of it was written drunk. I'm seriously scared for all the grammar and any other mistakes in this thing.  
> this was supposed to be a 'Teen and up' and it almost is? ugh.
> 
> You probably need to read the first part of this series to understand it better.

Their relationship isn’t a surprise for anyone and Derek feels stupid allover again. The only one who knows the truth, the small fraction of it Stiles talked about, is Scott. And Stiles must’ve made it all look better than it was because Derek didn’t get any glares or angry vibes from Scott. Just the mandatory “you make him cry – you die” speech. But it was laced with happiness for his best friend.

Derek… doesn’t get why anyone, let alone Stiles, would be happy about this relationship. About it actually progressing into something, considering Derek is, well, Derek: emotionally unavailable, stunted and broody (yes he can admit that to himself). But Stiles, Stiles is over the moon. The feeling he gives off, his whole body language, they radiate content, security, Stiles is glad. And Derek desperately and futilely tries not to get infected by the feeling, but finds himself relaxing more, letting a smile slip more often and when Stiles grins at him brightly and so open, he doesn’t even seem to care that he’s smiling back.

And at first Derek thought it would be hard – being in a relationship when he didn’t do anything but sleep around for years, being in a relationship with _Stiles_ , doing all the things people are supposed to do when they’re dating: going out of your way to spend time with somebody, worry about anniversaries and gifts, abandoning plans and friends just to placate the person you’re dating.

Only none of this happens. The dread and regret don’t come as Stiles keeps being exactly the same Stiles he was, actually making sure everyone attends pack meetings and never trying to push Derek into something he won’t want. And it looks like Derek’s schedule was already pretty centered around the boy – just that now their dates and evenings spent together are consciously spent as a couple. Which also means there’s more to them than before. Something about Stiles did change: now he isn’t afraid to reach out and squeeze Derek’s hand in his, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap himself around Derek in the middle of watching a movie, lying in Stiles’ bed, and kiss him.

Stiles gets too bold sometimes, abandoning the movie, or whatever they were doing, to plaster himself on top of the man, grinding down, making his interest known, snaking his hands under Derek’s shirt, stroking him through the fabric of his jeans and Derek has to use all the willpower he has not to touch the boy in return and to push him away.

Stiles never protests when Derek does that. He knows about Kate, Peter made sure to tell everyone, so maybe he thinks that that’s Derek’s reasoning: not wanting to touch him while he’s underage, while he’s sixteen, the age Derek was when everything happened. Stiles settles for kissing and holding hands and Derek… Derek wishes he’d just push some more, make Derek abandon reason and just let himself answer to Stiles’ eager mouth and hands. But he wants it to be Stiles’ decission. He wants Stiles to be sure he wants it. Not just because he wants sex, not because Derek’s right there to have it with, not because he thinks he needs to have sex and not be a virgin any more, not because he _thinks_ he’s in love.

Derek’s selfish in this – he doesn’t want to deal with the consequences, with Stiles abandoning him when Derek’s too hung up on him, even if he already is. It’s probably stupid and Stiles is a teenager, god, Derek’s whole pack consists of teenagers and he knows that they fall in and out of love all the time, breaking up and coming back together. But Derek doesn’t want that. He’s too tired of the drama. He just wants something that is his and he wants Stiles. He wants everything the boy has to give and more and he needs Stiles to be sure he’s ready to give it. Because he won’t be able to let go and Stiles needs to _know_ that he _wants_ it. That’s why he’s ok with taking it slow even if it takes all of his restrain not to push Stiles into the matress and lick at his long pale neck, kiss every mole dotting his body, not to bite at his fragile collarbone and the juncture of his neck and shoulder, not to nose at the bulge in his pants, mouth at it, just to hear Stiles’ desperate whimpers…

Derek hasn’t jerked off so much since he was a teenager.

It’s a Saturday night and Derek’s wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of Stiles’ smell, cuddled, there’s no other word for it, to his side, hand thrown over Stiles’ waist, legs hooked at the calves with Stiles’ own leg, head hiding under Stiles’ armpit, curled into the boy, laying flat on his back. Derek can hear his breathing and heartbeat and they’re both a little too calm, as if Stiles is forcing his own body to stay that way, but he’s quiet and Derek doesn’t dare ask, just snuggles closer with a content sigh, feeling sleep take over-

“Hey, I need you to answer me one thing.”

Derek groans and tries to bury his face deeper under Stiles, into the comforter.

“Tomorrow. Sleep, now.”

“No,no,no. Just a small one. And you won’t lie because it’s in your interests to tell the truth if you want me to shut up.”

“Ok, ok. What?” Derek mumbles, staying hidden against Stiles’ side, because if Stiles saw him, he would instantly see that Derek couldn’t stay mad at him and Derek had an image to maintain. Kind of. He hoped there was something left of it at least.

The silence is stretching too long and if not for the nervous twitching now and then, Derek would’ve thought that the teen went to sleep. Stiles’ voice comes out weak when he does open his mouth:

“You like me, right?”

Derek pulls a face, debating if he should actually lift a bit and roll his eyes at the kid.

“Yes, Stiles. Can we sleep now?”

“No. No, seriously. You do like me, in your weird I can tolerate you-like way. You’ve spent- over half a year sharing a bed with me, so you kinda have to like me. I suppose.”

“This can’t possibly wait till morning.” Derek slurs, letting a little bit of a growl into his voice. He just wants to sleep and he doesn’t get what Stiles is trying to say and it won’t get easier to decipher in the morning, but at least he’ll get a good night’s sleep…

“So apart from all the kissing – we’re friends? Once again, in your bizarre ‘I don’t trust anyone and don’t have friends’ way. We are, right?”

Derek is considering relocating and maybe leaving Stiles and his weird mood for today because this doesn’t sound like he’s planning on sleeping today and letting Derek get any sleep. Just one last attempt.

“Yes, Stiles. Now go to-”

“So if you’re doing this because of some weird sense of duty because you think I’ll stop being friends with you – you kinda have to stop. Because I’m ok with being friends, but you’re just leading me on with this and I start thinking things and I know this won’t lead anywhere-”

Any trace of sleep is gone as Derek lifts on his elbow to look at the teen who’s avoiding his eyes and twisting the sheets between his fingers in a nervous gesture.

“You want to break up?”

“Well, no, of course, no.” a blush is creeping onto Stiles’ cheeks and Derek doesn’t know what to do with his own body, if he should move away or get closer, so he stays frozen in place, searching Stiles’ face as the boy refuses to meet his eyes. “But, like, if _you_ want to. I don’t have a problem with it. I mean, shit. You could hear me lie right now, but. I _would_ have a problem with that. But not in the big picture, y’know? The me that sees the big picture is already over it and happy you still want to hang out.”

The end comes out a little too desperately, Stiles’ voice unsteady, his gestures too jumpy, features too skittish. And Derek is absolutely lost.

“Stiles, shut up. What are you saying? Where is this even coming from?”

At this Stiles finally looks at him, expression offended, with his eyes opened wide and mouth hanging open.

“Are you- No, really- Wh-” he has to stop himself, taking a deep breath, then a second, And only then he starts talking again: “You’re obviously not attracted to me. And that’s ok. I know how I look and how I act- But you gave me hope and I-”

Derek doesn’t let him finish, thankful that today they’re alone in the house and Stiles’ father doesn’t hear all the noise.

“I like you, Stiles. And I find you attractive. You’re… I like you, Stiles.”

“But you won’t have sex with me!” alright, Derek is very gratful the sheriff isn’t home tonight. And he’s clinging desperately to the thought instead of trying to focus on what Stiles just said. Great. But the boy isn’t done yet, so Derek has time to process. “Zero erections, Derek. If you did like me – I at least expected a boner to poke me in the back at least once? At first I thought you had amazing control, but- And it’s ok, man. I am used to rejection. And what we did was really nice. Nice isn’t a good word to describe things, is it? Good? It was good? No, that just sounds lame…”

Stiles goes off into a detailed ramble about the english language and how it’s too soft and way too neutral to express what they had- and Derek lunges at him with a growl, covering his lips with his own, pushing Stiles down from the position he took, leant back on his elbows, pressing him into the bed, covering him with his bulk, but Stiles keeps his lips sealed, pushing Derek away and he just obeys. Because what else is he supposed to do?

Derek sits back onto his haunches, staying on top of Stiles but not crowding him any more.

“Just don’t have a pityfuck with me. My selfesteem won’t be able to take it. I get that you don’t want me. No need to force yours-”

“I **want** you!” Stiles lets out a humourless empty laugh at that and Derek doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know what to say or how he can prove himself. He never wanted Stiles to think he didn’t want him, felt anything but love towards him…

“I was taking it slow!”

“Wow. Were we actually gonna have sex when I would have to take viagra to get it up?”

“I didn’t want to screw this up!”

At least the bitterness seems to get replaced with honest curiosity, Stiles so obviously not believing him. And it hurts, but Derek knew what he was getting into and he needs Stiles to get this.

“I care about you, Stiles. More and more every day. And I don’t want this to be just about sex. I wanted you to fall in love with me before-”

Derek doesn’t have a chance to finish as Stiles bursts out laughing and he doesn’t think he can take such a blunt rejection. Maybe later, when he’s had time to cool down, to accept that even if Stiles doesn’t care, that _he_ does. And that even if it’ll hurt him he won’t be able to stay away and say no to him, but right now – right now he needs to get away.

The werewolf crawls off the boy and straight off the bed, debating if he should get his clothes or just leave like this, but Stiles is reaching out for him, trying to grab at him but Derek is out of reach in a flash and Stiles flails and falls to the floor, dragging the covers with him, clutching at Derek’s ankle instead, holding on with a death grip.

“No, no, sorry- I didn’t mean to laugh-” he’s gasping for breath, still unable to hold back the laughter even as he apologizes. And Derek hates it. Hates himself. Hates this situation he created. And loves the stupid boy.

“What’s so funny in me being in love with you?” the moment the snarl leaves his lips he wishes he could take it back. But it’s too late. Stiles freezes and the next moment he’s desperately trying to untangle himself from the sheets to get up, searching eyes boring into Derek’s heating face. The man curses but there’s no turning back now. He always ruined everything, why should now be any different?

Stiles uses the bed and Derek as leverage to get up, scrambling to do it faster, his heartbeat beating erratically inside his ribcage and his eyes trying to catch Derek’s. The younger man’s hands still on Derek’s biceps, squeezing lightly, as if Stiles was trying to settle down and suppress his own skittishness.

“You- you’re in love with me?”

Derek huffs, facing Stiles’ questioning gaze straight on, feeling bile rise up his throat, bitterness filling him whole from inside.

“Yes, Stiles. I am. It’s not like-”

It’s Stiles’ turn to shut him up with a kiss, crashing their teeth together but not flinching away from the impact, biting at Derek’s lips instead, licking into his mouth, clinging with all of his limbs almost crawling onto Derek, climbing him like a junglegym and Derek is lost, too late to reply to the rushed kisses, too stunned to react fast enough. But he’s reaching down to slide his hands down the backs of Stiles’ thighs and is hauling him up, Stiles wrapping his legs tight around his middle never separating their mouths, mashing their faces together, pulling on Derek’s hair, forcing him to moan into the kisses. He pulls and pushes and squeezes tighter around Derek, never letting them separate.

Derek isn’t sure what to think, isn’t really able to think properly, so he just steps back, closer to the bed, and lowers them both, dropping to the matteress ungracefully, the jolt forcing Stiles to stop his desperate kisses for a second, but his hands are on the back of Derek’s head in an instant, pulling him down, the boy covering his face with rushed feverent kisses, peppering his cheeks, nose, eyelids and brows, every inch of him he can reach.

“I’m so- God- I’m so in love with you- We can not have sex for as long as you want.” He mutters between kisses and Derek can’t stop a grin from spreading on his face, even if his brain is still having difficulty catching up.

On pure instinct Derek grinds his hips down, pressing Stiles deeper into the mattress, making him feel his hardening cock, feeling Stiles’ hardness rub against him in return, with just a couple of thin layers of cotton separating them. Stiles moans loudly, hands clenching tightly for a long moment and then he’s keening, thrusting his hips up again and again in a messy rhythm.

“Can I take that back? Can we have sex now? Please? Fuck-”

Derek leans down in answer, sniffling at Stiles’ neck and making him bare his throat, nudging his chin higher with his nose. And then he’s sinking in his teeth, feeling the full-body shudder it elicits from the boy beneath him.

“Shit. No, I changed my mind. I definitely-” he breaks off on another moan as Derek sucks on the tender flesh, making sure to leave a mark, “There will be no waiting. We’re having all the sex.”

Derek can’t help but chuckle at this and as soon as his mouth moves away from Stiles’ neck, the boy is dragging him up by the ears to bring their mouths together. It’s sloppy, uncoordinated and frantic and it’s the best thing ever.

Derek lifts up from Stiles only to get his shirt off and then he’s back to pressing him down, hands roaming all over Stiles’ body, raking up his shirt, thumbs brushing his nipples, groping and feeling every part of him, none of this being enough. They both are panting heavily into each other’s mouths and Stiles’ fingers are tangled in Derek’s hair, not letting him move away, not that he’d want to ever leave even for a second. Derek’s hands move lower and under the waistband of Stiles’ pajama pants, squeezing his cheeks and pulling him up, their groins grinding against each other and Stiles shudders again, crying out and suddenly the room starts reeking of sex a thousand times more intensely and it takes Derek an embarrassingly long time to figure out that it’s because Stiles came.

Maybe Stiles mumbling about being embarrassed so so much was also a good clue. Derek lets go of him and lifts up, sitting back and watching Stiles, face and neck red with embarrassment, his boxers wet with come. So Derek pulls the underwear down, finally getting to see Stiles’ dick, and drags his fingers through the sticky mess, Stiles’ spent cock twitching at his touch. Derek sucks the come into his mouth, thoroughly licking his fingers, savouring the taste. This certainly perks Stiles’ interest and he pulls his hands from his face to watch, arousal overriding the shame.

“This is totally your fault, by the way. I refuse to take the blame.” He states, crossing his arms comically across his bare chest. Derek just nods, smiling down at the boy.

A moment later Stiles seems to remember that Derek’s still hard and still needs to come and flushes all over again. “Let me- I could-” his hands hover uncertainly over Derek’s dick, still confined in his briefs. Derek can’t see why not any more so he trains his eyes on Stiles and makes sure to watch every expression that passes on his face as Derek pulls himself free and begins to stroke.

“I want to come on you.” It might be weird. This has to weird Stiles out. But he should know better, the boy’s eyes dilating with lust.

“Do it. I want you to.”

It takes half a dozen strokes to get Derek there, to cover Stiles’ stomach and chest with thick ropes of come, painting his pale skin. Stiles echoes his moan as if it felt just as good to him as it did to Derek. The were chances a glance at Stiles’ face but not seeing any resentment there he drags his fingers through the come, smearing it against Stiles’ skin, and Stiles just shivers against him, arching up against his touch, letting him do it.

After it Derek just falls against him and Stiles pulls him in, leaving eager kisses everywhere he could reach. They kiss, slow and lazy, not even kisses anymore, just their mouths touching. It goes on for hours or minutes and Derek’s mouth doesn’t leave Stiles’ skin, now mouthing softly at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, moving away and losing this contact – impossible. Derek’s almost asleep when Stiles talks again.

“What now, Stiles?”

“…uh…” he sounds uncertain and Derek frowns and lifts on his elbow to look at him because one crisis was enough for one evening. And it looked like they dealt with it just fine not to worry for at least a while. “I need to pee. And we really need to clean up because all this come will be a bitch to scrub off later.”

Derek just groans and rolls off of him, freeing Stiles but making no move to get up or start at cleaning up. He’s practically out. _Again_. When he feels something wet touch his chest. He opens his eyes to Stiles with a washcloth, gently wiping his chest.

“You’re lucky I like you so much.” He grumbles but Derek just smiles and closes his eyes. He falls asleep with Stiles in his arms, warm against his side. Maybe, just maybe, this just can’t be ruined. Even by him.

**Author's Note:**

> If I didn't post it today - it would take ages for me to do it. Sorry for the quality.  
> The next part will be more entertaining.


End file.
